THE PRESERVATION OF OUR WILD PLANTS. 



401 



regret the handfuls of Cowslips, Buttercups, or Bluebells, that never even 

 reach home,, but wither in hot little hands only to litter the homeward 

 path ; but it is possible, without diminishing their enjoyment by one 

 iota, to teach the children several valuable lessons. Anyone who has 

 carried a bunch of flowers through city streets knows how constantly he 

 is asked for " just one flower." Is it strange, then, that while the glass 

 windows of the florists serve only to tantalise, and the parks where flowers 

 must not be picked do little more to satisfy this natural longing for the 

 possession of "a thing of beauty," every accessible bit of wild should be 

 incontinently stripped of every blossom it bears ? * Even a baby, however, 

 can be taught that the flower is intended to produce seed to grow into the 

 plants of next year ; that we cannot eat our cake and have it ; that if we de- 

 stroy the flower the insect will not have its honey, the seed cannot be formed, 

 and we ourselves may find no flowers next year. It will not be difficult 

 to make them realise that a true love of flowers will lead us to study them 

 closely, and to admire them most in their natural haunts and surroundings, 

 not merely to grab a handful of them. Above all, we can teach the 

 lesson of unselfishness, that what we admire ourselves we should give 

 others a chance of admiring, not only this year but also in the future. 

 At the same time, mere gathering without uprooting may do much harm, 

 even in the case of some perennials. Our terrestrial Orchids, for example, 

 are largely dependent upon seed for their perpetuation. If not allowed 

 to seed, each tubercle produces but one to replace it — not like the many 

 clones of some bulbs and corms — and this is liable to various vicissitudes 

 which may terminate the life of the plant, being eaten by field-mice, for 

 example. 



The simple lessons which I have just mentioned as desirable for 

 children are, I am afraid, very often equally needed by the adult excur- 

 sionist. The feeling which underlies the gathering of wild flowers may 

 be a love of things delicate in form, in perfume, and in colour ; but to 

 transplant them to unsuitable conditions in a garden or to vases in a gas- 

 lit town drawing-room is as perverted a taste as that which would cage a 

 lark or a swallow, the embodiment of joyous freedom and grace of 

 movement. + We read of railway companies in Colorado running special 

 "flower trips," from which the tourists return with their arms full and 

 decorate the carriages and engines with their spoils ; f and I am not sure 

 that similar orgies might not be recorded nearer home. And yet it is a 

 very general experience that few of our wild flowers look as well, or last 

 as well, when cut as do the creations of the horticulturist's art. These 

 latter are often " doubled," which deprivation of their power of reproduc- 

 tion makes them last longer without withering, and they have, moreover, 

 a certain artificiality in many cases more in keeping with the surroundings 

 of a drawing-room.^ 



Unfortunately, too, the tourist may often have learnt from some local 

 guide-book what is the special rarity of the district, and the greed of 



* G. Gordon Copp, " Protection of the Wild Flowers," Journ. JSeiv York Bot. Gard., 

 vol. v. (1904), p. 116. 



t J. D. in Sheffield Independent, May 30, 1901. 

 % Mary Perle Anderson, loc. cit. 

 § G. Gordon Copp, loc. cit. 



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